


Red Link

by OperaGoose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gift Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Psychic Bond, Soul Bond, Star Wars References, The Klance is only really there if you squint through shipping goggles, no beta we die like men, opposite sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose
Summary: “Wait a minute,” Lance said, getting up onto his feet and dusting off his blue armour. It was scuffed and dented. “This is total like Star Wars Eight! When Kylo and Rey were—”“No.” He deadpanned. “It’s nothing like that,” he refused.“Oh yeah, Mullet? You got a better idea?” Lance asked, pulling a face at him as he folded his arms over his chest.“...” He turned away and gave an annoyed huff. “Well, you’re Kylo Ren,” he insisted.“What?” Lance demanded, outraged. “No way! You’re the one with the emo mullet!”“I’m also the desert orphan with badass hand-to-hand weaponry skills,” Keith replied. “You’re Kylo.”“No way! You’re the guy in the mask with secret ninja skills!”“Well you’re the one working on the side of the new tyrant to control the new empire,” Keith hissed angrily.Lance was stunned at that, staring at him in a slack-jawed silence. “What?”





	1. Keith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whathecheeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whathecheeze/gifts).



> This idea bit me and I decided to gift it to Whathecheese, my only Lance RP partner, as a reward for finals being finished!  
> There is a second chapter coming.  
> This was supposed to be short and silly.  
> Help me.

Keith stood across the battle field from the Voltron team, surrounded by the rest of the Marmora. His team… who he thought were his friends. But there they were, standing beside Emperor Lotor as he slaughtered his final opponent against his reign. Securing his dictatorship. Sure, the two teams had started disagreeing a few months ago – about how to handle the Galran empire in the wake of Emperor Zarkon’s death. But he hadn’t thought it would grow this bad. 

The Blade had never agreed with the plan to replace one dictator with another. How Lotor had convinced the Voltron team that he was trustworthy, Keith couldn’t understand. Why couldn’t they _see_ through him? 

“Keith,” Kolivan interrupted, his voice cold and reserved. “We must retreat. There’s only a matter of time before Lotor turns on the Blade.” 

“But we need to warn Voltron,” he said, stepping forward. “They don’t know that he plans to—” 

“They have made their decision, Keith. It is no longer the Blade’s concern.” 

“But they’re my friends!” he protested. 

“And now they are your enemies. You can stay here and become the first casualty of Lotor’s empire, or you can join your brethren in the rebellion.” 

Keith looked back at Voltron, watched as Allura embraced Lotor, and then turned his back to follow Kolivan back to their ship. He stood at the window, staring at Voltron… his friends. If they were friends still. 

A blue helmet was removed, and he almost thought he saw Lance meet his eyes – but it wasn’t possible. Not with their distance, or his mask on. But he couldn’t _shake off_ the feeling Lance was staring straight at him. Until the ship took off and they were going too fast to move. 

He could almost _hear_ Lance’s voice “ _what the **cheese**? Did they just **leave** _ ?” 

… 

The first time he walked around the corner and saw Lance standing in the middle of the Marmora hallway, he was too shocked to move. He was dressed in the one outfit he had from Earth, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He froze mid-step, staring at Keith in disbelief. 

“ _Keith?_ ” He demanded, his voice going up a pitch. “How did you get here?” 

“Me?” He asked. “How did _you_ get _here_?” 

“What are you talking about, Mullet? I’m at the castle. Where are _you_?” The blue ( _red_?) paladin demanded. 

He opened his mouth but froze. This must be a trick. Some game of the princess or Lotor to find their new secret base. He slammed his mouth closed and… Lance was gone. Not even in the blink of an eye. Between one moment and the next he was standing there and then he wasn’t. 

“What the quiznak?” 

… 

The second time it happened, he was in the middle of a training simulator. They didn’t have bots at Marmora, but they had a quasi-hallucinogenic simulator to train. He was in the middle of a four-on-one battle when the simulated enemy changed into Lance. 

He didn’t have time to redirect his momentum, but he did tuck his blade to rest against his forearm, so it wouldn’t cause damage. 

Lance screamed before the two of them slammed back into the floor, and he lost his breath. He coughed and spluttered until he caught his breath – Keith scrambled back, panting hard. 

“Dude, what the cheese?” Lance wheezed, once he had enough of his breath left. “You can’t just pop into existence in my hangar and tackle me to the ground!” 

“I’m not in your hangar,” Keith said, shrinking his blade back to its dagger form and tucking it away. “I’m in _my_ training deck. You’re the one who showed up out of nowhere!” 

“Did not! It was you!” Lance argued. 

“Good argument!” he snapped, pulling away from him. 

“Wait a minute,” Lance said, getting up onto his feet and dusting off his blue armour. It was scuffed and dented. “This is total like Star Wars Eight! When Kylo and Rey were—” 

“No.” He deadpanned. “It’s nothing like that,” he refused. 

“Oh yeah, Mullet? You got a better idea?” Lance asked, pulling a face at him as he folded his arms over his chest. 

“...” He turned away and gave an annoyed huff. “Well, you’re Kylo Ren,” he insisted. 

“ _What_?” Lance demanded, outraged. “No way! _You’re_ the one with the emo mullet!” 

“I’m also the desert orphan with badass hand-to-hand weaponry skills,” Keith replied. “You’re Kylo.” 

“No way! You’re the guy in the mask with secret ninja skills!” 

“Well _you’re_ the one working on the side of the new tyrant to control the new empire,” Keith hissed angrily. 

Lance was stunned at that, staring at him in a slack-jawed silence. “ _What_?” 

The door to the training rooms opened and Keith jolted, turning to look at the Blade who entered. When he looked back at Lance, the room was empty. 

... 

It happened over and over again. Without reason, or pattern, sometimes Lance was just _there_. He always insisted that it was _Keith_ showing up wherever he was. 

He had just come off a fight with the Galran army and was sitting in the medical ward when Lance appeared, taking his helmet off. The Cubano tensed, as he seemed to feel Keith’s presence. “Keith, I’d rather not do this right now. I just wanna go back to my room, shower, do my beauty routine, and pass out until morning.” 

“Don’t let me stop you,” he hissed, pressing a healing-gel pack to his side. 

“Huh?” Lance turned to look at him, and his eyes went wide. “ _Quiznak_ , Keith. What the hell happened to you?” 

“A battle,” he deadpanned, tugging the ‘bandages’ out of the first aid pod on his lap. They were made of some sort of latex thing, once he stretched it around his torso, it shrunk until it was a smug, but nonconstricting fit. 

“Who... who are you fighting with?” Lance asked, coming over. Somehow, he was able to dig his hands into the first aid kit and get out a tube of minor healing gel. He tugged off one of the thick black gloves of his uniform and started applying it to the abrasions on Keith’s face. 

Keith smacked his hand away with a glare. “ _Galra,_ who else?” He pulled back, ignoring the screaming pain in his ribs. 

Lance looked confused ~~(and hurt)~~ as he stood back. “Galra?” He repeated, a frown tugging at his shoulders. “I haven’t heard Allura mention that there were any insurgents of Galran rebellion groups.” 

Keith gave a bitter laugh. “Are you that stupid, Lance?” He demanded. “It’s no _rebellion group_ attacking the Marmora.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Lance demanded defensively. 

“I’m saying that Emperor Lotor is sending armies out to try and kill the Blade of Marmora, Lance!” he snapped back, furious. 

“Stop!” the paladin cried out, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a rough shake. “Why are you _lying_ like this? Have you been brainwashed by the Marmora?” 

“Let me go!” Keith hissed between clenched teeth as each shake jarred his ribs. 

“Lotor and Allura are working together to bring peace to the universe from inside the Empire!” Lance snarled. “If the Marmora are trying to undermine that, then you need to come to the right side, Keith!” 

He clenched his teeth down on a sharp scream as one of his ribs gave a loud crack. He planted one foot against Lance’s chest-piece and kicked him away. If Lance landed somewhere, he didn’t see. The apparition had disappeared. 

… 

The next time he saw Lance, he was convalescing in his hammock at the Marmora secret base. Wherever the castle was, it must have been in its night cycle. Lance was half-sitting, as if caught in the middle of lying down, headphones around his neck, eye mask hanging off his fingers. His face was already covered in that weird white goop he insisted in sleeping in. 

The paladin gave a tired sigh and lowered the eye mask. “I shouldn’t be talking to you,” he grumbled. 

Keith closed his eyes, exhausted and worn out. “Then _don’t_. Just go away or shut up until you fall asleep.” 

Like asking Lance to shut up had ever worked. It only took about forty-five ticks until he was talking again. “Allura said the Blade of Marmora has gone rogue. That they’re no longer working towards the universe’s best interest.” 

Keith scoffed quietly and turned over – as best as he could in the hammock – so his back was facing the paladin. “We’ve ‘ _gone rogue’_ because the Blade isn’t supporting Lotor’s claim to the throne. **Everyone** who disagrees with him has to be squashed out. How many benevolent rulers do you know who do _that_ , Lance?” 

The heavy sigh gusted across his mullet. “That could just be what the Blade is _telling you_ , Keith. We’re the good guys, we don’t kill people just for disagreeing with us.” 

“Right,” he deadpanned. “And I guess General Acxa led a fully armed battalion of imperial soldiers _just to remind us of Lotor’s love_ , right?” 

Lance gaped. “What?” 

“You heard me.” He shifted, wincing at the pain in his ribs. “We were supposed to be at a _peace summit,_ Lance. We lost _half of our members_ and barely got away with our lives.” 

Lance looked horrified. “That can’t be right. There must’ve been some mistake.” 

He scoffed. “Why don’t you ask them next time you see them? Allura or Lotor or Shiro. Ask them what happened on planet Zhytomyr.” 

“Don’t think I won’t!” 

… 

Next time he saw Lance, the paladin said that Shiro had told him: “there was a rebel force amassing an army on Planet Zhytomyr. The Emperor did what was necessary.” 

But there was doubt in his eyes, even though he violently disagreed with Keith’s viewpoint. 

… 

And then one time, when he was trying to sleep, Lance appeared sitting at the end of his bed. “Keith!” he yelled, panicked. By his position, it was obvious he was in Red. 

“What?” He asked, immediately reaching for his blade. 

“Keith you’ve gotta get as many of the Blade out as you can!” Lance was shouting, as if over the noise of warfare. Muffled, from the speakers inside Lance’s helmet, he could hear Shiro shouting at him. For trying to warn them? 

“What’s going on?” He asked, yanking his hood up. 

“Lotor’s called a full-scale attack on the Blade of Marmora headquarters! He got the location from Allura!” Lance shouted, and then gave a hard yank to the side as if spinning into a barrel roll. “Keith, you’ve gotta get out! Shiro is… Shiro brought us here to _help_ Lotor’s armies! Pidge and Hunk and I split off but… he and Allura…” 

“I’ll warn everyone,” he said, sprinting out of the room. 

Every few feet, Lance appeared again – like a looping background on a low-budget cartoon. Keith wandered if it looked like he was just running through the cockpit in Red on an endless loop. 

He screeched to a stop, coming to a panting halt in front of Kolivan and the window. “Kolivan, the Galra…” 

“We know,” Kolivan sounded tired, resigned. “There is no time to stop or avoid the attack.” 

“Keith!” Lance yelled, frantic. “What’s happening?” 

He ignored the paladin, watching Kolivan with a true moment of fear. “You’re letting the attack happen. But we’re…” 

“Keith? What?” Lance shouted. 

“It is time for the Blade of Marmora to end,” Kolivan said, his voice cold and calm. “Others will rise, to take our place. Until the universe is free.” 

“Keith!” Lance shouted. 

He turned to face the paladin, his expression grim. But then there was an explosion of pain in the back of his skull and everything was black. 


	2. Lance

Lance stood in the flight deck of the Castle of Lions. None of them had shed their armour except Allura, who was wearing her princess dress again. She and Lotor were standing beneath the star map, looking serious, as the other paladins stormed in. 

“What the quiznak was that?” Lance demanded furiously, yanking off his helmet. 

“Lance,” Lotor replied, in his soft, regal voice. “I understand the decisions of warfare must be difficult for you to comprehend. Do not envy those of us who have the burden of heavy decisions.” 

“Shut your quiznak!” He roared at Lotor, startling the room into silence. “I wasn’t talking to _you_! Or can Allura not speak for herself anymore?” 

“Lance…” Allura said softly, clasping her hands tightly as she watched him. 

“Don’t _‘Lance_ ’, me!” he snapped, mimicking her accent on his name. “The Blade of Marmora were our allies, Allura! And you _slaughtered_ them! You didn’t even give them a chance to surrender!” 

“The Blade of Marmora weren’t interested in surrender,” Lotor interrupted. 

“I said **shut up**!” Lance felt his hand flex, bayard materializing in his hand. “I want to hear from Allura!” 

“Lance, Lotor is right,” Shiro begun, stepping forward. 

There was a broadsword in his hand before he could think about it, pointed at Shiro’s chin. “Don’t even get me started on you, Shiro. If that’s even _who you are_. The old Shiro never would have brought Voltron to kill our _allies_ before we could even attempt a reconciliation!” 

Hunk’s hand landed heavy on Lance’s shoulder, and the blue paladin tensed, expecting to be told to calm down. 

But… “Lance is right,” Hunk said, his usually calm voice firm. “We’re supposed to be the good guys. What we just did… what _you guys_ just did. That didn’t feel like being good guys. That felt like being the bad guys.” 

“Paladins,” Allura began. “I know it must be difficult for you to—” 

He didn’t want to hear Lotor’s bullshit regurgitated from her mouth. “Keith was on that base!” he snarled, fists clenching on the hilt of his sword. 

He expected Shiro to turn on Allura, to demand clarification. To say she’d told him that Keith was safe somewhere _else_. But the black paladin said nothing, calmly watching Lance from beside Allura and Lotor. 

“Lance, you must understand. The loss of Keith was an unbearable cost to us personally, but sometimes in war we must pay unimaginable prices for victory.” Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, squeezing so her knuckles were white. “Keith picked his side. He chose the traitorous Blade of Marmora over Voltron, over the Coalition, over _peace_. His decision was made.” 

“Keith wasn’t a traitor!” Pidge yelled, breaking her silence. “My _brother_ isn’t a traitor! Or are you going to kill him when you find the rebels too? Because they don’t agree with Emperor Lotor?” 

There was a tension between the two royals. But it was Lotor who answered, “when we find the Rebellion, they will be given the opportunity to pick their sides.” Allura nodded in agreement. 

“And if they don’t?” Pidge demanded, her bayard materializing as well. “You’ll destroy them too?” 

“Sacrifices _must_ be made in the name of peace,” Lotor insisted. 

Lance turned to Allura, pleading with her silent. “Princess… You have to know this isn’t right. Our allies, the people we’ve worked with for years to try and free the universe from the Galra. You _know_ it’s not right to kill them because they disagree with you. With _Lotor_.” 

She faltered, but Shiro stepped forward. “Lance. Leave the politics to us adults! Next time I need someone to crack a stupid joke, I’ll ask for your input.” 

He stepped back, looking between the three of them. He put his bayard away and held up his hands. “Fine,” he said. “You two run your little dictatorship, blowing up every ally who disagrees with you. That’s not the way _I_ know it should work. So, you can do this without Voltron.” 

“We’ll just find someone else to pilot the red lion,” Shiro said, determined. 

“And the green one?” Pidge asked, stepping up to stand with Lance. There was a hesitation, and then Hunk joined them too. “You can’t pilot Voltron with two paladins,” she said. “And if the lions had a choice, they wouldn’t want you to pilot them to do this either. Come on, guys.” 

The three of them left. Allura called after them, sounding angry, but they didn’t stop. 

“Where are we going to go?” Lance whispered, once they were far enough way from the flight deck. 

“Coran’s with the Olkari,” Pidge said. “It’s not far. We’ll be able to get there in a pod without a wormhole.” 

Lance had a childish, wicked idea. One he knew immediately was a bad idea, but that he couldn’t let pass. “I’m going to try and take Red.” 

Lance didn’t end up taking the red lion. She wouldn’t wake up for him. 

Instead, the Black Lion did. He flew out of the castle, Hunk and Pidge in their lions, and as they cleared the Castle – Red and Blue roared and followed them. 

Voltron left the Castle of Lions, and Lance couldn’t help but think he’d just gotten them in a lot of trouble. 

But once they were clear of the castle, he could almost swear he heard Keith in his ear, whispering: _“well done, Sharpshooter.”_

__

… 

They ended up back on Earth, taking Matt with them. Pidge had worked out the probability – whether it was safer to stay way, or risk going back. In the end, the need to warn the Garrison what was happening, and the desire to see their family again, outweighed the risk. Whatever was wrong with Shiro, he wouldn’t let Lotor destroy their planet. Even Allura, with whatever words the half-Galran had whispered in her ear, wouldn’t agree to destroy their innocent planet just because that’s where the lions were. 

Lance couldn’t describe the reunion with his family. When he got back to Hunk and Pidge and Matt and the lions, he couldn’t tell them anything more than: “it was great.” 

They stayed near the Garrison. When he was tired, and out staring at the stars, sometimes he could swear he saw Keith out of the corner of his eyes, looking up with him. 

He didn’t know how to grieve. He and Keith had never _exactly_ been friends. Rivals, team mates, leader and right-hand, allies, and then fighters on opposing sides. But friends? No. They’d never been that, had they? 

“I’m going for a ride,” Lance announced, separating from Pidge and Hunk’s tech station to go to his black lion. “I’ll take the speeder, I’ll be back before tomorrow.” 

They looked up at him, exchanged a look, but decided not to ask. “Take your bayard,” Pidge advised. “You never know what you’ll run into out there.” 

He nodded and headed over to the lion. The speeder cleared the desert faster than any simple bike did – even Keith’s fancy one with the hover wheels. A tight feeling choked his throat. What had even happened to that bike? What had happened to _all of their_ things when they’d left? 

He parked outside the rough wooden hut. He’d only been there once, but he couldn’t help that it felt _familiar._ The old red hoverbike that had once been parked outside, beside the generator room, was gone. 

He parked the black speeder beside it and took his head off. There was nothing quite like the smell of the desert, the wind crossing his exposed face. His eyes stung, but that was definitely from the sand being blown in his eyes. Nothing else. 

He climbed on to the creaking porch. Was it just him, or did he feel _taller_ than the last time he’d been here? Five years in space, surely he’d grown. 

The windows were coated in dust, but what he could make out through the glass was the same old white scraps of fabric he remembered Keith had nailed to the crumbling plaster above the windows. 

The door didn’t open when he pushed it. But he was anything but stubborn. He shifted his bayard to its smallest pistol and shot at the lock and the hinges with the lowest setting – and gave it a small kick. 

It was surprisingly clean inside. He paused in the doorway. Oh. It had never occurred to him that _someone else_ might one day move in. This place had existed in his mind as _Keith’s_. 

He heard a creak of a floorboard. “Sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean to—” 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In the next moment, he had a violent figure rushing at him, knife in hand. He dodged, summoned his shield to fend off a few thrusts that would have been otherwise deadly. “I don’t want to fight!” 

They didn’t stop. He was forced to summon his bayard, parry the blows he couldn’t shield from. Eventually, he slammed his attacker full in the chest with his shield and sent them flying back towards the wall. 

“Quiznak! Sorry!” he hurried over. 

As they slid down the wall, the hood of their old college sweatshirt slid back off their head. He gaped. _Purple. A galra!_

He raised his bayard, as it shifted to a pistol, and aimed. But then they raised their eyes and he froze. That face… the way the hair fell, the shape of the eyes. He lowered his weapon even as she bared her teeth. “Are… are you Keith’s mom?” 

She froze, her look suddenly becoming wary instead of aggressive. Her eyes darted at the bayard, at his face, at the helmet he’d dropped on the ground when she’d attacked him, his armour poorly concealed under his army surplus jacket. _Slowly_ , she lowered the knife – the Blade of Marmora knife. “Are you the blue paladin?” She asked warily. 

How the hell did he answer that. Blue? Red? Black? “Kind of.” He reached up to rub the hair at the back of his head. “Are you here looking for Keith?” 

She squinted her eyes at him. “Why do you ask, Paladin?” 

He sighed. “I… I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs Kogane,” he said reluctantly, “but Keith’s dead.” 

She jolted up, fear crossing her all-too-familiar features. “When?” She demanded. 

He shifted. “A few movements ago,” he said, something tight twisting up in his chest. “Nearly a phoeb.” 

Her eyes narrowed again. “Oh.” She said. Her voice had taken on an emotionless, unreadable tone. 

“The…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Emperor Lotor’s forces attacked the Blade of Marmora base and destroyed it. There were no escape pods launched so… no survivors.” 

“I know,” she said. She tucked the knife away in the deep front pocket of her sweatshirt. “Why are you here?” 

He scuffed one foot against the ground. “I… I don’t know. Really.” 

She hummed and silently watched him. 

He squirmed under the scrutiny. “It’s probably not safe for you here, you know,” he offered, “you could come back with me.” 

She huffed at him, and it was such a _Keith_ gesture, his throat clenched up. “I was here alone for thirty years, Paladin, waiting for someone to awaken the blue lion. I’m more than capable of surviving.” 

“Oh.” Why did that sound so thick. 

She looked at him seriously. “Come in. I’ll make you some tea.” 

… 

He didn’t mean to gush to Keith’s mom about her deceased son. But once he’d started talking, he couldn’t _stop_. About how he was in the Garrison – the darling, top pilot, highest scores in a century. He was purposefully vague about the years between, “ _I don’t know much about what he did after he left the Garrison_ ”. But every moment from their adventures of Keith’s heroism, his bravery, his skill, his successes – they tumbled from his mouth. It took him too long to realise there were tears dribbling down his face and falling in fat droplets into the mug of tea that had long since gone cold. 

Krolia listened with a patient, sort of knowing expression on her face. He couldn’t pick what it meant, and by the time he described Keith leaving for the Blade of Marmora, he was _worn out_. 

She invited him to lie down on the futon couch, get some rest. “It’ll be dark soon and you can’t go riding through the desert at night.” 

He let her mother him, though it made him miss his Mamá with a deep ache. He ought to go visit her again. But Krolia had just lost her son, he’d let her displace her mothering instincts on him if that’s what she needed. 

He dozed off, dreaming of the castle and the rumble of the engines. He woke up, suddenly, not sure what had disturbed his rest. Krolia was in the middle of sharpening her knife, but had paused and was watching him carefully. 

He sat up and rubbed his face. “Sorry,” he started, lowering his hands to rest on his knees. “I…” 

The door opened with a creak. “Hey, Krolia, they were out of the spicy kind but I got the plain and some peppers, so we can…” 

In the shocked silence that followed, Lance stared at the new arrival, who stared back at him. Violet eyes darted between Lance and Krolia, a wrinkle appearing between dark eyebrows. 

“ _Keith_?” Lance demanded, his jaw dropping. 

Krolia chuckled and stood. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” she announced, and slipped past Keith out the door of the shack. It closed and _clicked_ as she turned the lock. 

Keith set down the fabric grocery bag and turned to look at Lance. “What are you doing here?” He asked, suspicious. 

“What am **I** doing here?” Lance echoed, outrage building in his chest. 

“Well, yeah,” Keith replied, his frown deepening into a scowl. “Did you break into my house? Is that why the door looks scorched?” 

“ **Me**?!” Lance shouted, arms waving furiously at his sides. “You’re supposed to be **dead**!” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Keith deadpanned. He folded his arms defensively across his chest – over the same dumb red leather jacket Lance thought made him look _stupidly_ cool. 

“I’m not _disappointed_ , Keith! Quiznak!” He pinned his angrily waving arms down at his sides and stormed over, poking him in the chest. “Why didn’t you tell us you escaped the attack on the Marmora base?” He demanded. 

“Right,” Keith said, glaring across at Lance, but making no move to push him away. “I was just supposed to call the Castle where the _guy who ordered us to be killed_ was staying, to tell _his allies_ that we survived the attack. This is why you’re not the plan guy.” 

“We left the castle!” Lance replied. “We refused to work for Lotor after what he did!” 

Keith studied his expression carefully. “If this is a trap, Lance, I swear to…” 

“It’s not,” he promised, grabbing his shoulders in a fierce grip. “It was too late to save you, or the Blade of Marmora, but… better late than never, I guess.” 

Keith’s expression softened, just slightly. “We’re all fine, Lance,” he told him quietly. “Marmora abandoned that base as soon as we knew Lotor would be in power. But we had to go deeper underground.” He touched Lance’s arm, easing his tight grip slightly. “But I didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, me and Krolia came…” 

“Home,” Lance finished. “Keith, you didn’t tell us you found your mom.” 

He sighed. “I didn’t… it never seemed like the right time. Things got messy real fast.” 

Lance reluctantly stepped back. How long had it been since they’d seen each other? _Really_ seen each other, not the weird Star Wars connection. “Will you come back with me?” He asked. “We’ve got a hangar not far from here. I know Pidge and Hunk and Matt will be so freaking happy to see you.” 

“…Shiro?” Keith asked hopefully. 

He just shook his head silently, and the former paladin sighed. “Yeah… okay. I’ll come back with you.” 

Lance grinned, and took his hand. 


End file.
